The Death Knight
by wonwingangel
Summary: San d'Orian secrets grow out of control as corruption spreads across Vana'diel, a perfect time for Death Knight to arise and lead the chaos. Who can stop such an evil and can it get any worse?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **In an attempt to busy on my duty of writing content for the stratics site, I've started a new story. If you are interested in having your story listed on the stratics website, please contact me. Hope you enjoy the story. ;)

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**The Delineation of the Death Knight**

The Dark Knight is one who has followed the decrees and traditions of the conventional knight, but has succumbed to the evils of corruption, power and greed. They take what they have accrued and use it for their own will in complete disregard to their loyalties. In a sense, a Dark Knight isn't a knight at all, but rather a lost soul. Nonetheless, they are a force present in our population.

Jeuno's response to the Great War, the decree of National Adventurers allows the presence of Dark Knights and its training. Unfortunately, regardless of Jeuno's worldly knowledge and wisdom, they have overlooked a possible evolution of the Dark Knight classification, a title which is buried in the secrets of San d'Oria. There have been a few instances where the Dark Knight has been declared a superior rank known as the Death Knight. This rare level is only given to those who accurately get the corruption, power and greed they desire. Jeuno has foolishly overlooked the sole principle of what makes a Dark Knight!

The coming of the next Death Knight is inevitable as long as the Dark Knight is permissible. This will lead to sadness and destruction, a hierarchy of chaos that the Death Knight will control. San d'Oria has foreseen this impending doom, but holds too close to their secrets to deny Jeuno's decree. The secrets of San d'Oria are deep and little is known of what surpasses a Death Knight. There is such a position that has never been held and only spoken in tongue behind alleys of dappled darkness. It has a name in the plain tongue, but speaking it would burn one's mouth. This title is a mere evolution of the Death Knight and a forthcoming of the end of everything.

As long as there is potential for a Death Knight, there is potential for the end of the world…

**In the dark corners of the world…**

"And what now?"

The response was slow and tormenting. The inquired being glared at the darkness beyond the torches reaches and stroked the stubbles of his goatee, a mere murmuring in the back of his throat. The inquirer was not near as patient.

"Sir, I don't mean to intrude upon your thoughts, but the eyes of San d'Oria are turning your direction. I suggest you decide hastily!"

"The pawns are not all in place," he said coldly, his eyes fixated on the darkness ahead.

"What? And what would I be in your little game?"

"The Queen, of course." There was a faint curling of the leader's lips.

The man rolled his eyes. "Very funny. San d'Oria's gonna have my head and your crackin' jokes."

"Have Kerrigan buy the Eilenguard's estate and we shall continue from there."

"Eilenguard's estate? In the Rolanberry Fields? Why?"

He was retorted with a quick lashing of a glare, a glare torn from the complete enthrallment of watching the still dark.

"Right, right…don't ask why."

And the younger man left, a peculiar bounce in his step that would suggest he had inconceivable agility and grace.

**San d'Orian Officiator Chamber**

"This is an outrage!" a knightly Elvaan exclaimed, slamming down several papers. "Three more! Three more lives at the hands of this back-hill swine!"

"Sir Grieves, please. We are well-aware of the death toll," another Elvaan replied.

Grieves clenched his fists in an attempt to hold back a blatant scowling. "Forgive me, but I cannot suppress my irritation. This is no longer an incident, but an outright murder. He's simply ridiculing San d'Oria."

"Sir Grieves is correct," a robed Elvaan stated, pushing his chair back so he can stand. "This is growing out of our containment. Before long, Prince Trion will question the integrity of our council."

"Sir Harris, Prince Trion is far too consumed in his own mindless tasks to be concerned about some farmer's death," another robed Elvaan commented.

"I would not speak of royalty so disrespectfully, Sir Droy" an older Elvaan sitting across the table added.

"I will speak however I wish!" Droy angrily countered.

"Perhaps your head will be next!" Harris said.

"Childish banter!"

"Incoherent bafoon!"

"Enough!"

The head of the council arose like a wave after Levithan's decent. He was taller than them all and his bleach white beard rolled out onto the table. There was a sea of wrinkles on his face that could be seen above the hair that encroached his eyes. His old ears were drooping and he barely managed to keep his head still as he stood before his council. His lanky arms reached past the table. His name was Neumos.

The others quieted and sat instantaneously.

"The integrity of this council _is_ questionable," he spoke slowly, the words seemingly quivering off the tips of his tongue. "Prince Trion shall not be demeaned here, Sir Droy. Not under my council. He has brought this board together for justifiable reasons, such as this case. We are to see to it accordingly and in an orderly fashion. We cannot allow for this treachery to continue, so let us provide a solution rather than argument. Yes?"

Everyone's eyes turned to the table and slowly they nodded their heads. Droy's attempt to conceal a sigh was as sickening as watching milk curdle. Neumos steadily sat back down. The council was quiet for a spell as they pondered on what to do. Then, the newest and youngest of the group, Yerxes Po'efunaught of the wealthy Po'efunaught family, stood with a suggestion.

"How about a bounty?"

The committee looked shocked by his comment, but couldn't find any reason to disagree. At least, at first.

"A bounty?" Droy asked.

"Yes. It would work well with the adventurer system," Yerxes answered, enthusiastically.

Droy half-laughed.

"I don't see why not. Seems perfectly logical to me," Harris noted.

Droy shook his head. "Might I remind you what happens when we put a bounty on someone's head? We state openly that San d'Oria is open to killing for money. We'd create an implicit support on the black market to okay bounties on various populace. Some bad, but some good! Also, we could send unskilled adventurers to their deaths, possibly resulting in complete anarchy!"

"I disagree," Grieves said. "I think it would show San d'Oria's disgust with this individual. Show that he truly needs to be put down. And with the league of adventurers going down his throat, it won't be soon before we see another following his steps."

"Very true," one Elvaan agreed.

"I doubt it," Droy replied, still disagreeing. "I think you're mad."  
Grieves' temper rushed like before, vividly showing on his face. Fortunately, Neumos stopped it from flaring.

"Well, then let us vote on it. Send me your votes, either by voting with a check for instating the bounty or an 'x' to decline it."

Everyone ripped off a piece of note paper near there desk and scribbled their votes with the feathered pens that had been placed at the center between each pair of council members. As the votes were handed to Neumos, he noted it would be a two-thirds vote.

"One..two…thre-hack-ee." Neumos voice almost seemed to be lost, but he gathered enough strength to finish. "Twelve votes for the bounty and one against."

All eyes turned towards Droy.

"You've all gone mad."


	2. Four Corners Part I

**Disclaimer: **I own a character in FFXI and the right to be creative. However, I do not have any rights to FFXI and therefore, this story is spark of my own creation, having nothing to do with my FFXI char.

**Author's Note:** As always, thanks for the reviews. I split this chapter into two parts because it started getting ridiculously long (in my opinion). Hope you enjoy and feel free to comment on anything, whether it is spelling errors or favorite lines. :)

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**The Four Corners**

**Part I**

**Vana'diel Tribune: _Classifieds_**

_- Bounty_

The mass population of Vana'diel is undoubtedly unaware of the recent murders of adventurers in the Ronafure, Derfland and Norvallen regions by an unknown hillside killer claiming to be of San d'Orian origins. It is questionable whether he or she is a San d'Orian, but obviously this being can not be taken lightly. Therefore, in order to protect the sacred decree of the Adventurer society, it is imperative that this foe is brought to justice immediately before any more casualties. We will not tolerate conflict among adventurers outside of Ballista events and thusly state a bounty of 50k Gil to whoever can bring the hillside killer to San d'Orian courts. This villainous criminal is considered highly dangerous and we ask that only the most trained teams seek this felon. Young adventurers are to be warned when traversing the above regions.

_Neumos Kujas, High Elder of the San d'Orian Assorted Issues Branch_

_- Sold_

The Eilenguard's estate, recently owned by successor Tom Eilenguard of Jeuno, was sold to Kerrigan Aishi. "I foresee the luscious fields of the old Eilenguard estate a profitable investment," says Sir Kerrigan. "Old Tom couldn't maintain his family's land and without an heir, it was best to sell before time got the best of him." Kerrigan immediately renamed the Eilenguard estate to the Aishi Fields. The name had to be legally approved by the Jeuno Property Division as the Eilenguard's estate overlaps into the Brutus's Field. The division approved the changed by a unanimous vote.

_Vana'diel Editor, Associated Press_

**The Bastokians**

The Steaming Sheep Restaurant was quiet as expected on midday Earthsday. There were a few bums resting their heads on the tables, hoping they'd get pity's pretty penny and an eventual second booze. The owners didn't mind much, considering the lack of customers. Earthsday was renowned for being Bastok's busiest work day. Merely every citizen and the majority of adventurers and even tourists would labor on this day. The citizens working the mines; the adventurers crafting their tools; and the tourists, although not near as intensive, buying their novelties. Earthsday, it was the symbolical day of Bastok's mining culture and Hume aspiration.

However, on this day, the Steaming Sheep Restaurant was serving a team of local adventurers who weren't so concerned about sales and manual labor. They were crowded at a table for four.

Near the wall, was Big Axe, the quiet Galkan. He sat straight as a board, each hand on each corresponding knee. He was motionless. He almost appeared to be a gentle, polite soul, but a closer look at his squinted eyes was daunting. Big Axe was larger than most Galkans, a race of hulky physiques. Incoincidentally, there was a Great Axe strapped to his back, hence his painfully blunt Hume-given name.

Next to Big Axe, was the Hume Max Ghi'lade. He was also, if not more so than Big Axe, quiet. Max had studied the Far East techniques of Martial Arts and was considered by the group as 'The Stealthy Ninja.' Max wore a black mask over his face and a gold visor over his eyes, completely concealing all skin. He had two katanas sheathed and bundled together at his side.

Then there was Brady McFloy, the dishonored singer/musician. Brady, another Hume, was expected to train to be a Paladin in his father's footsteps, but when he decided to pursue his own goals in music, he was denounced from his family. Nonetheless, Brady carries the group with his witty comments and positive attitude.

Another cheerful one of the group was a Mithran named Lemikata Coral, or Lemi for short. She was a magic-less summoner-want-to-be thief-for-now adventurer. She was good at hand-to-hand combat and fast with daggers, but she studied black magic on the side. There was little potential for her to become a mage due to her lack of patience. She was the one everyone went to make themselves feel better. She had bushy, bleach white hair and, opposite of Max, she preferred to wear practically nothing at all.

And who could forget Rose? She was the white mage, draped in white robes. Her blonde hair was thin and long, often falling out of the cloak. She did not have a last name. Rose was shy and the youngest of the group. She was considered the helpless child and everyone was over protective of her, even seemingly careless Big Axe.

Last but not least was the leader of the pack, Hans Granger. He was a blend of Samurais, Paladins and Monks, three tremendously differing titles. Hans was very ambitious and slightly older than Rose. He kept the group busy with long queues of quests and missions. He was the stabilizer of the group; the voice of reason. They all put their trust and faith in him and he felt the burden of all the group's responsibilities. It was mainly due to him that this group was so successful in staying together, a rare occurrence among adventurers.

Their food was placed by the group's only fan, the lowly waitress Hilda Hornsworth. She found the group very intriguing and happened to be the only regular, besides bums whom she'd often not serve, customers she waited on. They usually tipped well too.

"How's it goin', boys?" Hilda asked, her hip jutting as if being pulled by a gravitational force.

"Same old, same old," answered Hans.

"Got any big plans for the sunny season?" It was as if she was begging for them to give her attention.

"Nope."

It didn't work. She sighed, smile still present and decided to find some work to do. The group remained silent for the entire course of their meal.

Lemi grabbed the bushy end of her tail to wipe the crumbs off her lips. "Okay…so when we gonna quit this nonsense?"

"I'm with the Cat," Brady chipped in, causing Lemi to roll her eyes.

Hans was staring coldly at Max, cold enough to penetrate his mask. Hans couldn't tell if the ninja was glaring back, but he continued the glare as if he were in a life-or-death staring contest.

"Hans," Rose said, pleadingly. "Please let it go. Please?"

Hans gave her a quaint smile, eyes still glued to Max. He pushed his chair back and stood tall, a masculine challenge. Max just folded his arms.

Slowly, words started to form at the tips of Hans' mouth. "It has been an honor in leading you all. I respect you all equally and expect the return. If you cannot follow my order, than I politely ask you to leave this group."

"Come on, Hans," Brady said. "That's not necessary."

However, Max grabbed the hilts of his two blades and stood slowly and quietly, almost eerily. Standing still for a moment, he finished with a slight bowing of his head and turned towards the door. He took his time walking the distance, and although he didn't make a sound when his feet touched the ground, all the few customers turned to watch him leave. Lemi scowled at Hans and ran after Max. Hans looked incredibly saddened, as if he had just lost his closest friend.

Outside the restaurant, Lemi caught up with Max. "Max? Max. Max!"

"…"

She took a deep breath. "Max-Max-Max-Max-Max-Max-Max-Max-Max-Max-Max-Max-"

"What? What is it, Lemi?" Even the ever-so-quiet Max Ghi'Blade could not overcome Lemikata's persuading tactics.

"Don't leave," she said, smiling that she had managed to stop him.

"Why not?"

"Can I say, 'cus I said so?" she asked.

He shook his head, possibly smiling under his mask. "No."

"Come on, Max. Come on. Hans is just a little bitsy witsy hot-headed from what you said earlierrr." A slight rolling of her tongue on the last word.

"He's hot-headed because it's true," the ninja declared.

"But-"

"You know it's true."

"I know. But, but, but you gotta think of all the other times. Think of all we've done for Vana'diel!" she exclaimed, but a sad look was on her face.

"You know damn well I'm not in this for Vana'diel."

"For us?"

"He's let the position get to his head," Max replied, turning his back to her. "He can't keep the promises and he can't pay the fees. He's on the beginning of the spiral down and I won't be part of it. Not again…"

"Again?" Lemi's head turned out of instinctive curiosity.

"Goodbye, Lemi."

"Goodbye? I don't think so."

But Max was already walking away. She threw herself on his back and let out a quiet purr.

"Goodbye," he repeated.

"Until we see each other again, you self-rrrighteous, self-centered bastarrrd."

This time he laughed.

**The San d'Orians**

Sword to sword, two male Elvaan knights concentrated on each other in the Central Garden of Chateau d'Oraguille in San d'Oria. They were heavily equipped with Royal Squire Chainmails draping their bodies and holding matching shields. In addition, they each held Holy Degen's, fencer-like swords made from top-notch alchemists. They stood still as if they had been frozen and their cold glares did not falter.

There was a third knight a few feet from them. He wore a thick Gaia Doublet made from the most advanced cloth-makers in the world. He had a Schlaeger at his side. The skillful knight held one hand high in the air, glancing back and forth at the two knights. When he dropped his hand, the two charged each other like Bloodtear Baldurfs.

Although it was a closely watched sparring, the battle was intense. The two were quick and graceful on their feet. If not for their difference in hair color, the battle would've appeared to be someone dancing with a mirror. They had incredible control and could stop their greatest force before it ever made contact with the other. Every time one was taken off guard by the other, the third knight would shout a short ki-yup that sounded like, 'I!' The two would reset and the whole sequence would continue.

Off to the side, two Elvaan females sat, casually watching the battle.

"Juilielle seems to be winning," the one wearing the Wool Gambison noted.

The other, nearly completely concealed in her Shaman's Cloak, merely nodded her head.

"He's such a darling gentleman," the first woman continued. "I've waited so long for him to succeed. I think he might even surpass Sir Vioche."

The cloaked one shook her head. "Nay. Sir Vioche is far stronger and still learning."

"Yes, but Juilielle is learning so rapidly."

"Indeed he is, but Sir Vioche is about to have quite an opportunity."

"Oh?"

"Curilla of the Temple Knights has been closely watching him."

"I didn't know that."

"Hyah!" the black-haired knight shouted as the other fell to the ground.

"Yes!" the first woman exclaimed.

"Favoritism is not thought highly around here, Rella," the cloaked woman stated.

"Yes, I know. I'm just being, um…supportive of Juilielle."

"Whatever. I doubt Albecht will allow him another point."

"You think so?"

"He does better when angered."

Sure enough, the red-haired Albecht suddenly started moving quicker and continued to outwit the black-haired Juilielle. Rella watched and sighed; disappointed that Juilielle would lose another training round. Before long, the third knight, known as Sir Vioche concluded the training. The two bowed as Vioche declared Albecht the victor of this bout. The two then headed for the chambers to take off their armor. Vioche walked up to the woman.

"He almost had me believing he'd win this time," he said.

"He's getting better, though," Rella remarked.

"Most assuredly," Vioche agreed.

"He lacks the ability to finish a dual properly," the cloaked woman added.

"Always so negative, Trellia," Vioche said, grinning somewhat.

"Being truthful, Sir."

"Of course you are," he replied.

Vioche held the hilt of his sword as he got down on one knee. He looked back to make sure the other two knights were out of hearing distance. He then turned back to the two mages.

"What do you two think about the hillside killer?" he nearly whispered.

"I think he's a childish inbred who unfortunately learned how to swing an axe," Trellia bluntly and crudely stated.

"He's no more than a power figure if you ask me, which of course, um…you did," Rella added, smiling at herself.

Vioche smiled at the two comments.

"Why?" Rella asked.

Vioche's smile only got bigger.

"You intend to take the bounty, huh?" Trellia thought out loud.

"I wanted to gather your input first," he replied. "I knew the others would jump too quickly at a chance to take on some San d'Orian outlaw."

"Do you think we could defeat him?" Rella asked.

"I'm sure we could, but I don't know how skillful he is. We should at least investigate."

"You know I'd follow, Sir Vioche," Rella said proudly.

"And you?"

Trellia merely glanced up at him, her eyes shadowed by the cloak. When she did not answer, he answered for her.

"Then it's settled. I will tell the others." And he set off towards the other knights.

Trellia bit her upper lip. "I have a bad feeling about this."

On the other side of the Central Garden, a fully armored dragoon Elvaan was leaning up against the wall. His head was down, appearing as if he were sleeping. However, he had carefully studied the sequence between Albecht and Juilielle. After watching Vioche talk to the two sidelined mages, he stood straight and left the area, nodding as if he had accomplished something.

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**Part II to come…**


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